I might sometimes give the impression here that this stroke-rehab business is becoming easy. I'm walking taller and straighter, I'm getting about more generally; as you saw last week, I'm even running, in a fashion.
And then I have weeks like this one. Weeks that remind me about the joys of being on blood-thinning tablets in our glorious British weather; how the tablets make your blood feel so cold that all you want to do is hide under a warm duvet.
How my brain has been damaged in a way that makes it difficult to remember why I'm going into town after I've taken two steps out of the front door of Warrillow Towers. The frustration of getting home from town and remembering that you forgot what you went in for AGAIN.
How I really must remember to write down the day's activities on the whiteboard in the kitchen or I WILL forget something important. (Such as the dental appointment 15 minutes ago which writing this blog post has just brought to mind...)
How coping with a front-door lock that's playing up slightly can leave me temporarily imprisoned in Warrillow Towers. How the crowds and noise on market day in Tamworth really are too much for me to cope with at the moment.
How my new-found ability to forget or lose things can mean I think I've lost my wallet and can spend a nervous hour re-tracing my steps from the previous evening, only for Mrs W to then find it down the back of the lounge sofa.
How the thought of losing my wallet can send me into agonies of panic over all the hassle that would entail.
How explaining all this to non-strokies who, perfectly understandably, don't have a clue can sometimes make you want to cry with frustration.
I expressed all this frustration yesterday on a forum for stroke-survivors. Someone replied that I have to start saying that all of this is a problem "at the moment". Of course, they are right. But it doesn't make it any easier at the moment.
Wednesday, 15 April 2015
Wednesday, 8 April 2015
To hell and back - a story with a positive ending
It's been just over a month since I've mentioned Emily Smedley, the therapist who is helping me get back on my feet (literally) after my stroke.
As I've mentioned previously, I see her once a fortnight at her base in Derby and she pushes and pulls me in all directions, hoping to unknot and strengthen muscles and generally get me back to somewhere near what I was before December 16 2013.
It always hurts like hell, but yesterday's session was the worst yet. At times, it felt as if she was standing on my bladder ("I can't have been; your bladder's somewhere else in your body" she said) and she made me put my arms behind my head while she tackled the rest of me, something which my stroke-affected left arm was clearly reluctant to do.
It was a good job that the rest of Broomfield College was closed for Easter; anyone standing outside the door of the physiotherapy room may well have thought a murder was taking place, given all the howling and screaming that was going on. I've always enjoyed our sessions, however painful, but I couldn't wait for this to end.
By the time Emily told me to get off the couch, put on her most severe expression and asked me how I felt, I actually felt ready to die. But she flicked her head towards the door, directed me outside into the corridor and said "Now, run." And I did, doing several short 'sprints' up and down the hallway.
Feeling increasingly confident, I then said: "Actually, I feel as if I could do this outside." The spring sunshine may have helped my mood, but we went outside and I did indeed 'run' as you can see here:
http://twitter.com/Brea.../status/585521245715836928/video/1 It's a long way from this to my aim of a 5km charity run but when you consider that this is probably the first strenuous exercise I've had since December 2013, it's a start. And as plenty of people have told me: "No pain, no gain." And Warriors can cope with pain, can't they?
As I've mentioned previously, I see her once a fortnight at her base in Derby and she pushes and pulls me in all directions, hoping to unknot and strengthen muscles and generally get me back to somewhere near what I was before December 16 2013.
It always hurts like hell, but yesterday's session was the worst yet. At times, it felt as if she was standing on my bladder ("I can't have been; your bladder's somewhere else in your body" she said) and she made me put my arms behind my head while she tackled the rest of me, something which my stroke-affected left arm was clearly reluctant to do.
It was a good job that the rest of Broomfield College was closed for Easter; anyone standing outside the door of the physiotherapy room may well have thought a murder was taking place, given all the howling and screaming that was going on. I've always enjoyed our sessions, however painful, but I couldn't wait for this to end.
By the time Emily told me to get off the couch, put on her most severe expression and asked me how I felt, I actually felt ready to die. But she flicked her head towards the door, directed me outside into the corridor and said "Now, run." And I did, doing several short 'sprints' up and down the hallway.
Feeling increasingly confident, I then said: "Actually, I feel as if I could do this outside." The spring sunshine may have helped my mood, but we went outside and I did indeed 'run' as you can see here:
http://twitter.com/Brea.../status/585521245715836928/video/1 It's a long way from this to my aim of a 5km charity run but when you consider that this is probably the first strenuous exercise I've had since December 2013, it's a start. And as plenty of people have told me: "No pain, no gain." And Warriors can cope with pain, can't they?
Wednesday, 1 April 2015
The National Health Service - some uncomfortable truths
What's the point of having your own personal space in the blogosphere if you can't use it for the occasional rant?
For a while, I've been meaning to do a post expressing my frustrations (and no doubt those of all strokies and disabled people in general) with the National Health Service. What's spurred me into action is the start of the 2015 General Election campaign.
For the next few weeks, the media will be full of politicians of all parties claiming that they and only they will save/improve the NHS; excuse my language, but it's all b******s. Here's one example - last week, the Prime Minister was all over the papers shouting about how consultants and hospitals needed to work a seven-day week.
That's undoubtedly true, in my opinion. When I was in hospital after my stroke, I knew that if the consultant didn't discharge you on a Thursday morning, you were going to be in hospital for at least another week because you wouldn't see him again until the following week.
And nursing services over the weekend, especially on Sundays, were almost entirely in the hands of students and agency staff. I thought I could live with that until the night a careless agency nurse almost gave me the wrong tablets...
So it needs to happen; but the sad truth is that it won't because, whichever party is in power, there is no money for it. I was reading the other day about the £30billion gap between NHS funding and costs which is likely to exist by 2020 - if nothing changes.
In the meantime, patients like us continue to suffer. The left hand of the NHS continues to fail to know what the right hand is doing and patients like the stroke survivor I know whose speech was severely affected and who still struggles to walk 18 months on cannot get decent speech therapy or physiotherapy services.
The excuses are normally down to a lack of resources/staff or the system not being able to cope with demand; the latter may be true - I had to chase for weeks after my referral from one hospital to another went missing in a blizzard of paper (shouldn't it be computerised?) - but the reality is that nothing will change unless vast amounts of money are pumped into the system even to cope with existing commitments.
I don't claim to have an answer - but I do know that all the politicians who will pontificate on the subject for the next month probably don't either. And anyone, whoever they are, who claims that their party can provide all the answers is being economical with the truth.
For a while, I've been meaning to do a post expressing my frustrations (and no doubt those of all strokies and disabled people in general) with the National Health Service. What's spurred me into action is the start of the 2015 General Election campaign.
For the next few weeks, the media will be full of politicians of all parties claiming that they and only they will save/improve the NHS; excuse my language, but it's all b******s. Here's one example - last week, the Prime Minister was all over the papers shouting about how consultants and hospitals needed to work a seven-day week.
That's undoubtedly true, in my opinion. When I was in hospital after my stroke, I knew that if the consultant didn't discharge you on a Thursday morning, you were going to be in hospital for at least another week because you wouldn't see him again until the following week.
And nursing services over the weekend, especially on Sundays, were almost entirely in the hands of students and agency staff. I thought I could live with that until the night a careless agency nurse almost gave me the wrong tablets...
So it needs to happen; but the sad truth is that it won't because, whichever party is in power, there is no money for it. I was reading the other day about the £30billion gap between NHS funding and costs which is likely to exist by 2020 - if nothing changes.
In the meantime, patients like us continue to suffer. The left hand of the NHS continues to fail to know what the right hand is doing and patients like the stroke survivor I know whose speech was severely affected and who still struggles to walk 18 months on cannot get decent speech therapy or physiotherapy services.
The excuses are normally down to a lack of resources/staff or the system not being able to cope with demand; the latter may be true - I had to chase for weeks after my referral from one hospital to another went missing in a blizzard of paper (shouldn't it be computerised?) - but the reality is that nothing will change unless vast amounts of money are pumped into the system even to cope with existing commitments.
I don't claim to have an answer - but I do know that all the politicians who will pontificate on the subject for the next month probably don't either. And anyone, whoever they are, who claims that their party can provide all the answers is being economical with the truth.
Wednesday, 25 March 2015
The Brotherhood of the Disabled
I started this blog back in December as a means of helping raise awareness about stroke - how anyone can be affected, what the risk factors are and how to help stroke-survivors.
Well, it certainly seems to be doing that - it's had well over 200 page views in the past week. As a journalist, I know the importance of getting out there and telling the story. That's why I agreed to be interviewed on BBC Radio WM last week and why I appeared in my local paper, the Tamworth Herald, on Thursday (http://www.tamworthherald.co.uk/Just-49-suffered-major-stroke-Martin-fighting/story-26195221-detail/story.html).
The Herald story, in particular, seems to have been well-received. I spoke to a fair number of people who had seen it either in the paper or on their website; I hope it will have helped some of them to a greater understanding of the condition and maybe inspire them to support some of the stroke/brain injury charities I support, such as the Stroke Association, Different Strokes or Headway.
But this week, I want to ask you to give a thought to one of my ex-bosses. I won't name him, because I don't need to, but he was a prime candidate for a stress-related stroke; long unsocial hours, bad diet, fearsome temper (He could kick a waste bin like no-one I've ever met....). In the end, though, ignoring his diabetes got him. At the same time as I was in hospital, he was in hospital having one of his legs removed because of gangrene.
We met on Monday, for the first time since then, to have a drink or several with some old colleagues. Of course, everyone else wanted to know how I cope living with a stroke; I wanted to know how he copes living with an artificial leg - at least I'm still in one piece after all, even if it is damaged goods.
But he was as stoic as I am - life is what it is now, we can't put back the clock, we have to get on with it. Yes, he gets angry at times; so do I. Yet what struck me about our situation was that he chaperoned me everywhere; sat me down in the pub, organised the trains, even organised a taxi from the train station to Warrillow Towers, an eight-minute walk which I do regularly. And he's the one with the artificial leg who must find it painful and difficult to walk.
I suppose you could call it The Brotherhood of the Disabled; whatever you call it, I continue to be deeply touched by and grateful for people's concern. I was glad I met him and my former colleagues from my previous life; the concern of all of them for myself and my ex-boss continued to show me the good side of humanity
Well, it certainly seems to be doing that - it's had well over 200 page views in the past week. As a journalist, I know the importance of getting out there and telling the story. That's why I agreed to be interviewed on BBC Radio WM last week and why I appeared in my local paper, the Tamworth Herald, on Thursday (http://www.tamworthherald.co.uk/Just-49-suffered-major-stroke-Martin-fighting/story-26195221-detail/story.html).
The Herald story, in particular, seems to have been well-received. I spoke to a fair number of people who had seen it either in the paper or on their website; I hope it will have helped some of them to a greater understanding of the condition and maybe inspire them to support some of the stroke/brain injury charities I support, such as the Stroke Association, Different Strokes or Headway.
But this week, I want to ask you to give a thought to one of my ex-bosses. I won't name him, because I don't need to, but he was a prime candidate for a stress-related stroke; long unsocial hours, bad diet, fearsome temper (He could kick a waste bin like no-one I've ever met....). In the end, though, ignoring his diabetes got him. At the same time as I was in hospital, he was in hospital having one of his legs removed because of gangrene.
We met on Monday, for the first time since then, to have a drink or several with some old colleagues. Of course, everyone else wanted to know how I cope living with a stroke; I wanted to know how he copes living with an artificial leg - at least I'm still in one piece after all, even if it is damaged goods.
But he was as stoic as I am - life is what it is now, we can't put back the clock, we have to get on with it. Yes, he gets angry at times; so do I. Yet what struck me about our situation was that he chaperoned me everywhere; sat me down in the pub, organised the trains, even organised a taxi from the train station to Warrillow Towers, an eight-minute walk which I do regularly. And he's the one with the artificial leg who must find it painful and difficult to walk.
I suppose you could call it The Brotherhood of the Disabled; whatever you call it, I continue to be deeply touched by and grateful for people's concern. I was glad I met him and my former colleagues from my previous life; the concern of all of them for myself and my ex-boss continued to show me the good side of humanity
Wednesday, 18 March 2015
It's all happening at Warrior Towers
It's been an interesting week at Warrior Towers. On Monday afternoon, the Warrior tattoo which I mentioned a couple of weeks ago was inked onto my left forearm. It took the best part of two hours to do but Jen Moore of Nala in Tamworth did a fabulous job and I'm really pleased with it.
All the credit for it, of course, should go to my dear friend, fellow stroke-survivor and Warrior, 18-year-old Jade Driscoll-Batchelor, who designed and drew it. I'm really pleased with it and I thought I'd risk losing my whole blog (well, you know me and technology...) by featuring it here.
The picture's a bit indistinct because it was taken when my arm was still wrapped in cellophane straight after it was done but I think it does the job. If you can't read it properly, the words say: "I fight for my health every day in ways most people don't understand. I'm not lazy, I'm a warrior."
I'm dedicating it to all disabled people, stroke-survivors in particular and especially to the remarkable Jade.
All the credit for it, of course, should go to my dear friend, fellow stroke-survivor and Warrior, 18-year-old Jade Driscoll-Batchelor, who designed and drew it. I'm really pleased with it and I thought I'd risk losing my whole blog (well, you know me and technology...) by featuring it here.
The picture's a bit indistinct because it was taken when my arm was still wrapped in cellophane straight after it was done but I think it does the job. If you can't read it properly, the words say: "I fight for my health every day in ways most people don't understand. I'm not lazy, I'm a warrior."
I'm dedicating it to all disabled people, stroke-survivors in particular and especially to the remarkable Jade.
Then on Monday night, my interview with BBC Radio WM was broadcast. Now I've no idea how many people listen to WM at 11.30pm on a Monday but the wonders of the internet mean it's probably a lot more than it used to be. The BBC iPlayer means it can be heard on the web for a month after broadcast so if you're reading this in the month after March 16, this is the link: http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/p02kvkyl. I start about 90 minutes in to the broadcast.
As I said last week, I felt I said everything I wanted to say and got my points across without talking too fast. I still hate listening to myself on the radio, though.
Taking a step back to Saturday, I was interviewed by a young film-maker and photographer from Bristol called Amy Baker, who is doing a university project about naturism. Obviously, I did a fair number of these kinds of interviews when I was editor of British Naturism so I know what to say and how to say it. But some interviewers have a pre-determined view of naturism before they start - I don't think Amy did. She is going to let me know when the project is finished and I'll be fascinated to hear the results.
On Tuesday, of course, it was St Patrick's Day. With Mrs Warrior's family being Irish, this always means a bit too much Guinness and Jameson's. It's fun, but I do wake up with a sore head the following day.
And that's not wise because March 18 (today as I write this) is my birthday. My 51st birthday. But as I keep saying, age is just a number and you're as old as you think you are. And (unless I'm having one of my bad strokie days) I don't feel 51. Honestly.
Tuesday, 10 March 2015
An inspiration? That's for you to say, not me - I just get on with it
Firstly, a spot of self-promotion, if I may. In my last post, I noted that this blog wasn't far away from achieving 1,000 page-views; not bad, considering that I only began writing on December 16, 2014, the first anniversary of my stroke.
Well, we've got there; I've just checked the latest stats and we are into four figures, which does suggest to me that someone apart from myself and Mrs Warrior cares about my stroke-related ramblings.
There was, of course, evidence of that at the end of my last post when I revealed that my local radio station had been in touch. Well, I spoke with Graham Torrington of BBC Radio West Midlands last Thursday evening and the interview should be broadcast in the week beginning Sunday March 15. I've been told that they will let me know the date and that they will also put on their website the details of how to contribute to some of the key charities who have supported me in my various battles.
I won't spoil the interview other than to say that I didn't gabble, I didn't forget to mention any key points and I didn't fall into any journalistic traps that I could see.
I'll put a special post on here before and after the broadcast.
The Derby Telegraph photographer I mentioned here last week fell victim to 'organisational cock-up' syndrome and his visit has been rescheduled for two weeks' time, by the way.
In the meantime, I gave a presentation on difference and diversity to my colleagues on the counselling-skills course last Wednesday. I spoke about being disabled, I spoke about being born with spina bifida and hydrocephalus, I spoke about having epilepsy - and I spoke about being a keen naturist and having edited a leading naturist magazine for four years (I now write a monthly column on disability and naturism for another magazine).
Words like 'inspirational' were being bandied around afterwards. That's for others to say, not me; I just get on with life the best I can. But if, by my various media activities, I can help others make the best of lives which might seem blighted in some way, I'll be a happy man.
Well, we've got there; I've just checked the latest stats and we are into four figures, which does suggest to me that someone apart from myself and Mrs Warrior cares about my stroke-related ramblings.
There was, of course, evidence of that at the end of my last post when I revealed that my local radio station had been in touch. Well, I spoke with Graham Torrington of BBC Radio West Midlands last Thursday evening and the interview should be broadcast in the week beginning Sunday March 15. I've been told that they will let me know the date and that they will also put on their website the details of how to contribute to some of the key charities who have supported me in my various battles.
I won't spoil the interview other than to say that I didn't gabble, I didn't forget to mention any key points and I didn't fall into any journalistic traps that I could see.
I'll put a special post on here before and after the broadcast.
The Derby Telegraph photographer I mentioned here last week fell victim to 'organisational cock-up' syndrome and his visit has been rescheduled for two weeks' time, by the way.
In the meantime, I gave a presentation on difference and diversity to my colleagues on the counselling-skills course last Wednesday. I spoke about being disabled, I spoke about being born with spina bifida and hydrocephalus, I spoke about having epilepsy - and I spoke about being a keen naturist and having edited a leading naturist magazine for four years (I now write a monthly column on disability and naturism for another magazine).
Words like 'inspirational' were being bandied around afterwards. That's for others to say, not me; I just get on with life the best I can. But if, by my various media activities, I can help others make the best of lives which might seem blighted in some way, I'll be a happy man.
Wednesday, 4 March 2015
Spreading the word - on paper, by mouth and with ink
As this blog heads ever closer towards collecting 1,000 page views since I began writing in mid-December, it's starting to dawn on me that the wider world might just be interested in my story and how I have got where I am. The day after I write this, I am hopeful that my local paper, the Tamworth Herald, will carry a story about me while next Monday (March 9) a photographer from the Derby Telegraph is due to be present as Emily Smedley of breathebalancebeactivated.com puts me through my regular hour of torture and agony on her treatment table.
And it's not just newspapers. I was sitting doing nothing in particular yesterday afternoon, as us strokies have to do on occasion to preserve our energy, when my mobile rang and a producer from my local BBC radio station asked to speak to me. He'd heard about my story from a friend who works there and decided I was a good subject for a feature on their late-night show.
Unlike their BBC counterparts on Radio 5 Live, who set up live interviews all over the place and drop most of them when a 'better' story comes along, this will be pre-recorded and kept 'in the can' for a couple of weeks until an opportunity for broadcast presents itself.
It's a big chance for me to tell my story to a wider audience, to heighten stroke-awareness even more and to generate interest in the work I do making people aware of stroke; that it doesn't just catch old people (yet again this morning, I heard "You don't look old enough to have had a stroke''), that it can sometimes be a silent illness in that survivors can be brain-damaged but look healthy and that it changes lives in an instant.
I haven't yet worked out what I'm going to say but my journalism training tells me that I will need to have something ready to say and then say it at every opportunity.
No doubt the interview will feature in this blog next week. What is likely to feature in this blog in two weeks' time is the 'Warrior' tattoo which I've decided to have done for my birthday (which birthday? Mind your own business, LOL) on March 18. Designed by a young stroke-survivor who has become a close friend of mine in the last few months and who only recently celebrated her 18th birthday, it will highlight my journalistic background alongside my life as a stroke-survivor. Featuring a pot of ink, a quill and a scroll of paper, it will say: "I fight for my health every day in ways most people don't understand. I'm not lazy. I'm a warrior"
Apt, don't you think?
And it's not just newspapers. I was sitting doing nothing in particular yesterday afternoon, as us strokies have to do on occasion to preserve our energy, when my mobile rang and a producer from my local BBC radio station asked to speak to me. He'd heard about my story from a friend who works there and decided I was a good subject for a feature on their late-night show.
Unlike their BBC counterparts on Radio 5 Live, who set up live interviews all over the place and drop most of them when a 'better' story comes along, this will be pre-recorded and kept 'in the can' for a couple of weeks until an opportunity for broadcast presents itself.
It's a big chance for me to tell my story to a wider audience, to heighten stroke-awareness even more and to generate interest in the work I do making people aware of stroke; that it doesn't just catch old people (yet again this morning, I heard "You don't look old enough to have had a stroke''), that it can sometimes be a silent illness in that survivors can be brain-damaged but look healthy and that it changes lives in an instant.
I haven't yet worked out what I'm going to say but my journalism training tells me that I will need to have something ready to say and then say it at every opportunity.
No doubt the interview will feature in this blog next week. What is likely to feature in this blog in two weeks' time is the 'Warrior' tattoo which I've decided to have done for my birthday (which birthday? Mind your own business, LOL) on March 18. Designed by a young stroke-survivor who has become a close friend of mine in the last few months and who only recently celebrated her 18th birthday, it will highlight my journalistic background alongside my life as a stroke-survivor. Featuring a pot of ink, a quill and a scroll of paper, it will say: "I fight for my health every day in ways most people don't understand. I'm not lazy. I'm a warrior"
Apt, don't you think?
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